Christmas Comfort
by Arctimon
Summary: The holidays are a time for family, friends, and loved ones.  The Flynn-Fletcher household will be chock full of all of them tonight.  Obvious pairings will be obvious.  Happy holidays, everyone!
1. Twas the Night

Happy holidays, everyone! Figure I would get things started with my first holiday fic. Hope you enjoy it.

_**DISCLAIMER: **All characters of Phineas and Ferb are the property of Dan Povenmire, Jeff "Swampy" Marsh, & Disney Channel._

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><p><em>Tonight's Christmas Eve, and all through the house<em>

_Not a person was stirring, or much less a mouse..._

_The children are sleeping lined up wall to wall,_

_Didn't want them to wake, with the walking and all._

_The front room is littered with kids in their PJs,_

_Aspiring builders, singers and DJs._

_Buford all rumpled and sprawled in the corner,_

_Baljeet is off mumbling words like a foreigner,_

_Django and Irving face down 'til the morning,_

_And for a quiet kid, Ferb sure loves his snoring._

_The Fireside Girls were all welcome to come,_

_And sleeping they were, dreams sugared with plum._

_From Ginger's bag all you saw was her feet._

_No doubt she was dreaming 'bout that nerdy kid 'Jeet._

_Gretchen was tossing and turning; pose varyin',_

_For a girl her age, her smarts were quinquagenarian._

_Katie and Milly were sharing their blanket,_

_While Holly's afghan was way big; should've shrank it._

_Adyson's hair was all up in a tizzy,_

_Combing it out would make anyone dizzy._

_But there's two that I've missed; I've saved just for last,_

_The two that were earlier having a blast,_

_Now sitting together on the chair like a throne,_

_Perhaps this resembles just how much they've grown._

_Phineas' mouth agape; air freely flowing,_

_Isabella leans on him; grin obviously showing._

_Both fast asleep, minds equally clear,_

_Obliviously close to the one they hold dear._

_Phin in orange PJs, Isa in her purple,_

_Slouched close together, like a..._

"...Aww crud."

"Well, honey, you were going good for a while there."

Candace glanced at her mom, who had made her way down the stairs, presumably to check on all of the guests.

"Had to pick one of the few words that don't rhyme with anything," she sighed.

"Yes, well, can't be perfect at everything, sweetie," Linda retorted. "I liked the 'quinquagenarian' part, though."

"Thanks, I needed the dictionary for that."

"So, what are you doing over here?" Linda questioned.

"I was...just...making sure Phineas and Ferb weren't up to anything."

"At this hour?" Linda said. "My, how big sister-esque of you."

Candace rolled her eyes. "Mom, lay off the corny stuff."

"Seriously, Candace, it's Christmas. You can _say_ you were just checking up on them." Chuckling, Linda took a quick survey of the living room. "There's not much to look at, though. Everyone's probably still zonked from earlier today."

"Yeah, from when they were building that giant hot chocolate machine. Making colossal things can sure tucker out people fast."

"...I didn't see it, Candace."

"Well, of course _you_ didn't, Mom," Candace said. "Some weird mechanical monkey came and carried it away before you got there."

Linda raised an eyebrow at her oldest child. "Good thing I got you those psychiatrist sessions for Christmas," she said, taking a swig of her tea.

"Ha ha, very funny, Mom."

Linda's gaze fell upon her other red-headed child, currently leaning next to Isabella on the recliner. "Awww, he looks so cute when he's sleeping."

Candace looked at Isabella, a smile growing on her face. "Yeah, I'm sure Isabella would agree if she was awake."

"Yes, yes she would," Linda agreed. "She would also be so flustered being so close to Phineas that she would have a minor freak-out."

They both giggled, imagining the scene in their heads. Linda began to tiptoe through the masses to get to the recliner.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Candace said as she pranced after her.

"Relax, Candace, I'm just giving them a blanket. It'll help keep them warm."

"Yeah," Candace whispered to herself. "Not that Isabella's warm by practically being all over-"

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Mom." Candace said, grinding to a halt to stop from stepping on Baljeet's head. She took a quick look around and saw that she was precariously stuck in the middle of the room, balancing only on one foot. Looking forward, she looked at her mother, who already made it through the jungle of kids.

"Wait, what? How-"

"Mother's intuition, dear." Linda replied, tucking in the blanket around Phineas and Isabella. The young girl moved slightly, repositioning her head on Phineas' shoulder and letting out a dreamy sigh.

Candace, on the other hand, had more pressing concerns. "Mom, how am I gonna get out of here?"

Linda straightened up and surveyed the room. "Just stepped where I stepped, honey."

Her daughter gazed around, wide-eyed. "And where the heck was that?"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Candace."

* * *

><p>A few moments later, Candace was piggybacking her mom, who was huffing the last few feet to the kitchen. The younger Flynn raised an eyebrow, confused at the situation.<p>

"...I have no idea what just happened."

"Yes, well, as much as this is a wonderful reminder of when you were younger, Candace, I would rather not have to do this in the near future."

Candace let herself down, happy to have two feet back on the ground. "Thanks, Mom. Remind me never to do that again." Seeing her mom's mouth start to open, she quickly added, "Maybe when I get myself into that mess again, just not now."

"Fair enough," her mom replied. Linda examined the room again, content with the present situation. It had taken a lot of work (and bartering, in the case of the parents) to get Phineas and Ferb's friends to come spend Christmas with them. It had been Phineas to present the idea to her, asking her to do it in the spirit of the holidays. Linda smiled to herself, remembering that Isabella has gotten a particularly manic grin on her face when Vivian had brought her over to the house to talk it over. Seeing as how she was currently snuggled up with Phineas, Linda could only presume that some sort of plot had formulated in the young girl's head, and that it had indeed been successful.

The loud click of a camera shook her from her reverie. Linda looked over to see Candace giggling at her phone.

"Those two are so busted!"

"Candace, for the last time-"

"No no no no, not the regular two, Mom! These two!" Candace held up her phone for emphasis.

Linda peered at her daughter's phone screen. Right there was the only perfect picture Candace had ever took: Phineas and Isabella, frozen in time, sleeping together on the recliner.

"Awwwwww! That's so sweet!" Linda chirped. Catching herself from more praise, she added, "Candace, don't do that to your brother. You should delete that right now."

Candace stood still, mouth and eyes wide open.

Linda let her serious look linger for a moment longer, then cracked a huge grin. "Right after you send that to me so I can make multiple copies of it."

Candace smiled, relieved. "Man, Mom," she said, giving her a high five, "You had me going for a second."

"Just another trick in a mother's arsenal, sweetie." Linda peered over her shoulder, hearing the sounds of footsteps approaching. "And speaking of cute couples..."

Jeremy stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. His green pajamas were rumpled, as if he had just gotten out of bed. "Hey, ladies," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Hey, Jeremy," Linda and Candace whispered.

"What are you two doing up now, if I may ask?" Jeremy inquired.

"Oh, I was just checking up on everyone in the living room," Linda answered. "Although Candace did beat me to it."

"_Moooom_."

"How sweet of you, Candace," Jeremy said, putting an arm around his girlfriend. "Your mom must love that."

Candace groaned and crossed her arms, offering no reply. Linda rolled her eyes, smiling.

Jeremy spied the open phone in her hands. "Hey, what's that?" He plucked the phone out of Candace's grasp and looked at the photo of Phineas and Isabella on the screen. "Aw man, is he really-" Jeremy peered around the corner and saw the two kids still curled together. "Phineas, you sly dog, you."

"Actually, Jeremy, it was probably more on Isabella's part than Phineas'," Linda said.

"True," Candace interjected, laughing slightly. "I don't think he's going to complain in the morning, though."

All three shared a chuckle, careful not to awake the crowd in the other room.

"Candace, you _have_ to send me that photo," Jeremy insisted.

"Oh, don't worry Jeremy," Linda said. "I'm making doubles. Wallet size or standard frame?"

"Oooh, wallet size. That would fit great-"

"If we're all done here," Candace interrupted, "I think I've had enough poetry and pictures for one night."

"Sorry, honey. I'll send you one in a couple of days, Jeremy."

"No prob, Mrs. Flynn," Jeremy replied, leading the now groggy Candace back to the TV room.

"One last thing, Candace," Linda said, catching up with the teenagers. "Now, just because I'm letting you and Jeremy sleep in the same room doesn't mean that you can go with your shenanigans-"

"MOM!" Candace almost yelled, exasperated. "Are we really talking about this, right _now_?"

"I'm just saying, sweetie. Don't think you can pull the wool over my eyes or anything like that. I know you two are a couple, but there's absolutely no harm in taking it slow-"

"Oh. My. Gosh." Candace smacked her face with her palm. "We _are_ really talking about this."

Jeremy put her hand in his and smiled. "Don't worry, Mrs. Flynn, we'll behave ourselves. You don't have to worry about a thing."

Linda breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Jeremy. I'm glad we had this talk."

Candace raised her hand. "I'm not."

Her mom ignored her, checking the hall clock. "Well, I better get back upstairs. Your father is probably wondering where I am. Of course, if he's not snoring like a foghorn again." She paused to give both Candace and Jeremy a hug. "Sleep tight, you two. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Candace and Jeremy replied, waving Linda up the stairs. After she had gone, Jeremy turned to his girlfriend.

"Come here, I wanna show you something."

He led her back to the TV room, where he had set up his covers on the sofa. A few of Candace and Jeremy's friends had taken residence in this room as well. Jenny's sleeping bag was next to the wall and her hair was hiding her face. It was a wonder, Candace thought, how she could even breathe through it. Drummond, Jeremy's percussionist for his band, was next to her face down, drumsticks still tucked in his hands. Right in the middle of the floor, in their sleeping bags, were Stacy and Coltrane, both fast asleep. Candace's best friend had her hand softly resting on Coltrane's, peaceful expressions on their faces.

"Hehehehehe," Candace giggled, pulling her phone out again. "Man, they are so busted."

Jeremy raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You...know that they're dating for quite a while already, right?"

"Oh, I do," Candace retorted, snapping a quick photo of the two. "It's just that Stacy doesn't _know_ that I know."

"...She's been thinking that you've been in the dark for more than a year, and you've only been reinforcing that?"

"Yup, exactly."

Jeremy softly laughed, not believing his ears. "Man, I thought I've heard it all from you. I guess I was wrong."

They edged over to the couch, where they had stationed themselves earlier in the night. The covers given to them by Candace's mom were still unsettled from when Jeremy had gotten up.

"Ready for gift opening madness tomorrow, Candace?"

"Oh yes," she replied, watching her boyfriend flop himself down on the couch. "A morning of a mass of kids throwing wrapping paper left and right and running around like madmen? Sounds like a grand old time."

Jeremy snickered. "Oh come on. You'll be opening presents too."

"Yes, but I will be calm and collected, like I always am."

"...Right. Perhaps you won't be after you get my present."

Candace froze for the second time that night, but not for acrobatic reasons. "Jeremy, what did you get me?"

"Nooothing."

"Jeremy Johnson," Candace said, sitting down slowly, "What did you get me for Christmas?"

"You'll just have to find out tomorrow, Candace."

"...You are evil."

Jeremy patted his chest, beckoning her to lay down. "Yes, I know. I have been know to be that from time to time."

She set her head down on him, throwing the blanket over them. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Candace looked up at his face, a grin on her face. "Yeah, I don't." She pecked him lightly on the mouth before leaning into his body.

"Merry Christmas, Jeremy."

"Merry Christmas, Candace."

And the two of them slept all Christmas Eve, none the wise of what events had happened earlier that night.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE: <strong>...Rhyming words like a boss. Hehehe.

Ahh, nothing like being together with family and loved ones to get you into the holiday mood. I love writing the lovey-dovey that is the Canderemy relationship, if only to aggravate people who aren't particularly fond of that pairing.

As for "the events of what happened earlier"...you're probably wondering how Isabella and Phineas ended up together tonight. Well...that's next chapter. This should be fun. :)

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	2. Before the Bells

_**Disclaimer:** Everything here is owned by Dan, Jeff, and Disney. But not Christmas. That's owned by...who is that owned by? Is that even owned by anyone? But whatever, I'm getting off-topic._

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2 – Before the Bells<strong>_

_A few hours earlier..._

The night? Christmas Eve.

The people? The various kids of Danville.

The setting? The living room of the Flynn-Fletcher family.

The mood? ...Rambunctious.

"Hey, that was my spot, Dweeb!"

"I believe it is whoever puts their belongings there first lays claim to its area."

"...What?"

Phineas sighed. "Buford, Baljeet's employing 'Finder's Keepers' on you."

"Oh. Well, why didn't he just say so, Dinnah-Bell?"

"I don't know, Buford. Perhaps you'd like to talk to him about it."

"Yeah, Nerd, why are ya-" Buford stopped and looked around. "Hey, where'd he go?" Fuming to himself, he set off for the kitchen.

Phineas shook his head as he surveyed the room. His friends were as of this moment jockeying for position in the premises, and it was getting very interesting. Katie was laying her bag out next to Irving, who was working on a new scrapbook. Ginger was staring into space wistfully, having her hair brushed by Holly. Django was having a conversation with Milly in the middle of the floor. Ferb and Gretchen were on opposite sides of the couch, the former reading another one of his novels. Adyson's bag was in the corner, unoccupied, although Phineas could probably guess she was off searching for Buford.

He sat back, relishing in the comfort of the new family recliner. Dad had gotten it for Mom as a early Christmas present, as a way to let her unwind after a long day of errands (and dealing with Candace). Phineas remembered the day during summer when he went to the mall and sat in it for the entire trip. The mechanical hands had relaxed his brain so much that he had half a dozen new Big Ideas by the time they had gotten home. It was a good thing that he had "recommended" it to Dad; that way, he could enjoy it just as much as Mom.

In terms of sleeping arrangements that night, he had thought ahead, having thrown himself into the plushy recliner almost immediately after dinner. This made sure that he would be guaranteed the spot for the evening. Cheating? Perhaps. However, this was the only way he could guarantee the chair, lest Buford come and take it.

And as for Buford...

"Mrs. Flynn, Baljeet's in my spot!" The bully was explaining the situation to Linda, who were walking out of the kitchen.

"Well, did he have his stuff there, Buford?"

"...Umm...yes."

"Then what's the problem? There's plenty of room around. Just grab a spot, and if you need more covers, I can get some." With that, Linda went to the next room to check on the teens.

"Thanks, Mrs. Flynn." Buford ran to the far corner, and sat cross-legged facing out to the room. "Hey, I can see everyone from here!"

Coming down the stairs, Adyson rolled her eyes. "Well, that's reassuring," she muttered, smoothing out her red pajamas.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"It's a simple equation of mathematics, Adyson," Gretchen stated, glancing up from Ferb's book. "The furthest point of a specific region's epicenter will have the greatest area of vision bestowed on the viewer."

"...Aw man, not you too, Four-eyes!"

Adyson grinned. "Face it, Buford, if you actually paid attention in class, you might learn to say a word with more than three syllables."

"Or get better than a C on that English test before the break," added Django, tossing his pillow at an unsuspecting Milly.

"Or know the difference between a primary and secondary source," Katie said, carefully placing tape to the back of a photo.

"Or be able to recite the first paragraph of the Declaration of Independence," Irving appended, taking the photo from Katie and putting it in his scrapbook.

"Geez, now everyone's a critic!" Buford threw his hands in the air in anguish. "Next ya gonna tell me I need to know high level calculus!"

Ginger, in her mauve pajamas, said excitedly, "Well, maybe Baljeet can explain that to you!"

"Explain what to him?" Baljeet asked, having walked back into the room with his toothbrush in his mouth.

"The joys of advanced math, of course."

"Oh, is Buford finally going to learn about the lovely subject of mathematics?"

"Listen, 'Jeet," Buford said, pointing a finger at the Indian boy, "If you say the word 'math' one more time, I'm gonna make sure you don't have a _fraction_ of feeling left in ya arms." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Hey, I just made a math pun!"

"Hey, leave him alone, Buford!" Ginger exclaimed.

"Pfft, don't worry, Ginger," Holly interjected, having finished brushing Ginger's hair over the course of the argument. "We can sic someone on Buford if he acts up tonight."

"Oh yeah, Street, like who?"

"Well," Holly answered, "For one, Adyson."

Buford turned his head toward the brown haired girl, who raised a fist toward him in mock aggression. "Whateva'! You all and ya school stuff and all that crud. It's nothing special! Tell me, have any of ya ever been able to stuff six nerds in a locker before?"

"For one, Buford, I do not think that can be considered an achievement," Baljeet said, coming back from the bathroom. "For two, _I_ was one of those nerds, so you can probably understand if I am somewhat biased on the subject. For three-"

"What if I told ya I was blindfolded?"

Baljeet paused, a finger hanging in the air. "I...stand corrected; that is actually somewhat impressive."

"Let us alert the Bullying Book of World Records, so that we can put you in your proper place," Ferb said, not lifting an eye from his current page.

Everyone laughed at Ferb's remark, including Linda, having just poked her head from the back room. "Don't make me tell your mother about that, Buford," she giggled.

Buford let his head fall into his hand, exasperated.

"Ten minutes, guys," Linda announced, "Then the lights go out. Make sure you have everything ready to go."

With that, the kids began making their final preparations for the night.

"Baljeet, come over here by me!" Ginger exclaimed, patting the sleeping bag next to her.

Holly stared at her, hands on her hips. "Ginger, my stuff is already-WHOA!" She slipped backwards as Ginger yanked the sleeping bag out from under her, revealing all of Baljeet's belongings already laid out.

Baljeet raised an eyebrow at the Asian girl, confused. "But I thought my stuff was over there..."

"Then it must've just walked over here then, silly!" Ginger replied, the grin on her face seemingly surpassing normal human levels.

Holly sighed, rubbing her now sore butt. "Could you be _any_ more obvious, Ging?"

Baljeet looked back and forth from Ginger to Holly nervously. "Um, am I missing something, ladies?"

"Yeah, Nerd, ya missing a whole _lot_ of somethin'."

The Indian boy turned toward Buford, who was setting up his bag in the corner by the fireplace. "Well, you are going to inform me, right?"

Buford put a finger to his chin, feigning hard thought about the situation. "Uhhhhhhh...nope."

"Thank you. Thank you, Buford."

Phineas chuckled as Baljeet made his way to his belongings, only for Ginger to immediately launch into another animated conversation with him. It was good to see all of his friends together, even if some were having more fun than others. He had learned to cherish these moments; it certainly wasn't often enough that all of his best friends could get together, even for just a night.

And speaking of best friends...

Phineas peeked over the armrest to the right and saw his neighbor Isabella brushing her hair, lost in thought. Like him, she had picked her spot almost immediately and had not moved for the entire night. She hadn't joined in to most of the conversation, to Phineas' surprise. Perhaps something was bothering her.

Phineas, while occupied in his own musings, failed to notice that Isabella had spotted him looking at her. "Are...you OK, Phineas?"

He shook his head, trying to shake his brain back into non-daydream mode. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Because you've been staring at me for the past twenty seconds," she smiled, keeping her voice low as to not let anyone overhear.

"I...umm...uhh..." Phineas stammered. "I was just...trying to figure out why you're brushing your hair so much."

Isabella smirked, the brush still in her grasp. "Have to keep it in top condition. Sometimes that takes a while."

"Yeah, but we're going to bed. Surely you don't need it in shape for sleeping."

"You'd be surprised what my hair does during the night, Phineas." Isabella set her brush down and grabbed her pillow. "Besides, I don't feel pretty when my hair's not good."

"Isabella, you're _always_ pretty, no matter what your hair is like," Phineas said, realizing too late the words he had uttered. Panicked, he slapped a hand over his mouth.

It was a very good thing that the rest of the room was still loud with conversation, or else their friends would have noticed both Phineas and Isabella's quiet exchange. The Mexican-Jewish girl beamed, her cheeks a dark shade of pink.

"That's very sweet of you, Phineas."

He grinned back at her, his mouth now devoid of his hand. "No problem, Isabella." Steering the conversation away, he added, "Just as long as I don't hear you brushing your hair at, like, three in the morning. Santa's going to wonder why you're still up."

Isabella laughed. "Trust me, after building that hot chocolate machine today, I'm surprised everyone's not asleep right now, let alone me."

Phineas glanced at Milly in the middle of the floor, whose eyes were already closed. "Well, we got one down; it's just a matter of time before everyone else gets there."

As he said this, Linda peered down the stairs, dressed in her nightgown. "All right, everyone. It's 10:00 o'clock; lights out. Are all of you ready for Santa to come tomorrow?"

"Yup!" they exclaimed, with Phineas being the loudest of all.

"All right, then," she continued. "You guys can still stay up if you want, but try to keep it down if you do. Remember, Candace and her friends are in the other room."

"Got it, Mom."

Linda flicked the lights off, plunging the living room into darkness. "Have a good night's sleep, everyone. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Mom/Mrs. Flynn!"

After she went upstairs, Buford wasted no time in launching his extra pillow at Baljeet. "That's for taking my spot earlier, Nerd."

Having ducked the pillow, Baljeet only smiled in response. "Finder's Keepers, Buford. Remember that."

"I'll finders _your_ keepers, Nerd, once I'm-"

"As entertaining as this sparring match would be," Gretchen observed, having set her glasses on the coffee table, "It would be more optimal for us to get some shut-eye now. You'll be more than welcome to find whoever's keeper you want in the morning, Buford."

"Gretchen's right, guys," Isabella agreed. "The sooner we go to bed, the sooner we can open presents."

The gang nodded their consent and proceeded to settle into their sleeping bags. After a minute, the only sounds around were the occasional rustling of a cover or pillow being shifted. Everyone, as decided by the group earlier in the afternoon, began saying their good nights.

"Good night, Adyson."

"Good night, Katie."

"Good night, Irving."

"Good night, Ginger."

"Good night-"

"Aw, for the love of crud, people! It's gonna take ya all an hour to get through this!"

A dull thud resounded in the room, coming from Buford's corner.

"Ow!"

"Quiet, you." Adyson's whisper did nothing to alleviate the pain in the bully's shoulder.

"I'm just saying...yeesh."

Phineas smiled as he closed his eyes. He was certainly ready to get some sleep, especially after the hard work that they had accomplished. Christmas was going to be awesome this year; he just knew it.

* * *

><p>The surfboard made a sharp turn down the wave of blueprints, its occupant expertly keeping his balance. Phineas turned to his right to see Baljeet using Buford as his board; the Indian boy was doing a two step on his back with ballet shoes. Past him was Isabella, feverishly trying to do her English homework before the wave swept them all away-<p>

THUD!

A sudden knock into the side of the chair woke Phineas from his dream. Startled, he looked around in front of him, but nothing was there. The grandfather clock showed that it was midnight, a mere two hours after they had gone to bed. Still confused, he turned to his right.

"Sorry, Phineas."

Isabella was hanging on to the armrest with both of her hands, the right side of her face smushed against it. Her hair, pristine and pure before, had loose strands hanging over her forehead.

"Are you all right?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, trying to flatten her hair. "I had to get a drink, but I tripped over something coming back and ran into you. Sorry."

"It's not a problem, Isabella. What exactly did you trip over?"

"I don't know." She straightened herself up off of the armrest and tried to walk over to her bag, but a tug on her arm stopped her.

"Hold on, let me see something," Phineas said. His hand had grabbed her arm in an attempt to not let her trip again. He pulled out a small flashlight from the cushion and turned it on. His eyes followed the beam as it rested on where Isabella's belongings were...suppose to be.

"That's odd." Isabella moved over to the afghan that was covering her things, only to stop in her tracks moments afterward.

"...What is it, Isabella?"

"Holly."

"What?" Phineas moved the beam up a little, and sure enough, he saw Holly's tuft of black hair poking out from beneath her covers.

"Holly must have scooted over in her sleep. She was suppose to be right there (Isabella pointed in front of her, next to Ginger). And now she's on my stuff."

Phineas clicked the flashlight off. "Sorry about that. Can you move her at all?"

Isabella sighed, staring at Holly's sleeping form. "No, not without waking her up. I don't want to do that, anyway. She's already agitated enough from Ginger earlier."

The redhead stroked his chin, thinking about what to do. He glanced at Isabella, then at Holly, then around the room, trying to find another place for her to sleep.

And then his eyes hit the space next to him.

And it hit him.

"Isabella, you can sleep up here with me."

The girl whirled around at him, almost smacking her head into the armrest again. "Come again?"

"Come up here with me. Trust me, it's comfortable."

Isabella opened and closed her mouth several times, an action that Phineas was clueless about. It almost seemed as if she was embarrassed to agree.

"Isabella?"

"So..." She seemed determined to look all around Phineas as opposed to actually at him. "Let me get this straight. You want me (she pointed to herself) to sleep in there (she pointed to the chair) with you (she pointed to Phineas)?"

"...Yeah."

Phineas caught a glimpse of her face, blushing madly. Her expression was fluctuating rapidly from immeasurable ecstasy to insurmountable fear at a record pace, and he couldn't imagine for the life of him why she would have either.

"I mean, if you _want _to sleep on Holly, that's fine. There's more than enough room up here, though."

Isabella held back, still nervous. "Are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"Isabella," Phineas said, his tone serious, "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want you to."

Her look was still uneasy, but he could tell she didn't particular relish the thought of getting her things out from under Holly. "OK, I'm coming up." She climbed over the armrest with the help of Phineas and positioned herself to his left, making sure not to accidentally hit him in the process.

Only then did Phineas realize why she had been so nervous before.

They were...close. Really close. Past sleepovers and outings had them in separate tents or rooms, but this was a whole different sort of proximity. He could feel her leg brushing up against his, as well as her arm half resting on his body.

"So." Phineas was desperately trying to keep his voice from jumping out of his throat. "Is it comfortable?"

Isabella shifted in the chair, turning to lay on her right side. "It is. I imagine it wouldn't be as cozy sleeping on one of my troop members."

"No, it most certainly wouldn't."

She fell silent, but he was afraid to even check to see if she was dozing off. He found himself staring at the grandfather clock, watching the seconds tick by. One agonizing minute passed before he knew that it was going to be a long night if this kept up.

Steadying his brain, Phineas gazed at her, noticing the ambient light from outside dancing in her eyes. Even though it made her blue irises even more enchanting, it did nothing to change her demeanor. She still appeared to be bothered by something.

"You all right, Isabella?"

She glanced up at him, a slight smile on her face as she focused on him.

"Phineas, can I ask you a question?"

"Ummm..." He didn't know why, but her look was making him rather flustered. "Sure."

"Do you ever think about...the future?"

Phineas chuckled despite himself. "That's kind of an odd question to ask, don't you think?"

"I mean..." She sat up, rested her head on her arm, her head now eye-level with his. "Do you ever think about what you're going to do when you're older? Where you're going to be?"

The concern in her voice was not lost on her best friend. "Isabella, where is this coming from?"

She sighed, looking down at the cushion. "I'm just worried, that's all. That I'm not going to be around for everyone when we're older. That we're going to lose contact will all of our friends." Her gaze fell to the rest of the living room, occupied by the bodies of their companions. "It...scares me a little."

"Being successful scares you?" Phineas asked quietly.

"...Maybe. I don't know. In all honesty, I'm more concerned about...everyone. The girls and I aren't going to be a troop forever. We're going to graduate, and we might not stay in contact with each other. I know for a fact that Milly's frustrated with not getting to spend enough time with Django as it is. And Holly helps take care of her grandmother. I just don't want all of us to grow apart. We're all such great friends.

"And as for me...I don't know what I want to do when I'm older. My teachers say that I excel at everything, but that just makes me feel like I need to _do_ everything. And it's hard to be good at everything when people are saying you should do this and that. It's just...stressful sometimes."

Isabella turned, flopping on her back with a huff. However, she realized that Phineas' arm had snaked its way around her body, his hand on her shoulder in a half-hug. She turned back toward him, seeing a smile on his face.

"Isabella...why are you worried about all that?"

"Why? I don't understand the question."

"Listen, Isabella," Phineas started, "What matters is _now_. Look at everyone here." He motioned to the entire gang, still sleeping through their exchange. "We're all here now. There's no need to worry about what's going to happen in the future because the present is so awesome."

"Phineas..."

"Sure, you can _think_ about the future, but it's not something that should consume you. Maybe you won't talk as much with the troop when we're all in high school, or maybe you'll get one B on a test of something. It's Christmas. You can think about that stuff in due time. Just...enjoy the moment."

Isabella glimpsed at her shoulder, Phineas' arm still draped around it. "I think I'm beginning to do that."

"That's good, then. You have to remember too; it's not healthy to stay up all night in any case. Especially if it's about worrying." He peered at Buford, fast asleep on his stomach. "Because worrying, in comparison with what Buford does, is about as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum."

She let out a giggle. "Yeah, you're right. I worry about stuff too much." She leaned back, seemingly enjoying the comfort of his arm as a pillow. "But about my second question..."

"Yeah?"

"Have you thought about what you wanted to be when you were older?"

"That's easy," Phineas replied. "Either President or Nobel Prize winner. Whichever one I am, Ferb will be the other."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Ferb and I have already talked about it. We figured that would be awesome whichever way that turned out. Although, I'd be down for any big award, to be honest. I'm not really that picky. Have you thought about it?"

Isabella crinkled her brow in thought. "A little. My grades are great, and I like horses, but I don't feel like I have a lot of choices."

"Are you kidding? You could be a...teacher or doctor or lawyer..."

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do! Or even a soccer player or a pop star or a actress..."

"Mmhmm..."

"Or you could be a professional horse rider, or-or a hair stylist, or really anything you wanted to be because you're-"

Phineas was halted by something being rested on his shoulder. He turned back toward her to see his best friend's head leaning against him, her eyes fully closed, and her chest rising lazily up and down.

He was struck by just how peaceful she looked. It was strange how not even a few minutes earlier she looked stressed, worried, uneasy. But now...all of that was gone. Nothing was left except for the undisturbed look of happiness on her face. Slowly, he finished his statement, even though Isabella was fast asleep.

"...Because you're that special."

Suddenly he didn't feel like relinquishing his arm back anymore. It felt...right, somehow, around her shoulder.

Phineas smiled, relieved she was finally going to get some sleep. He carefully leaned back, moving the headrest to a more horizontal position, ready to get some shut-eye himself.

And then he saw it.

And wish he hadn't.

_Now_ he remembered that Mom had put it up a week ago along with the rest of the Christmas decorations. _Now_ he remembered Jeremy and Candace taking a picture underneath it that afternoon, as well as his parents. And _now_ he was underneath the mistletoe. With Isabella.

Phineas looked at his neighbor, who had not moved during his realization. He didn't technically have to do anything; there was not any written rule that stated that both participants had to be willing to partake in the tradition. Half of his mind was all ready to forget what he was thinking and go to sleep. But the other half? Well...

Surely it wouldn't be awkward, right? Like he thought before, it was tradition; there was nothing wrong about kissing someone under the mistletoe. But the idea of doing that was still incredibly foreign to him.

The two sides of his mind were rapidly arguing their point. _Don't worry, she's your best friend. She won't mind,_ his rational side thought.

His spontaneous side seemingly scoffed. _Exactly. She's your best friend. You really want to go down that road?_

_She would do the exact same thing if the roles were reversed, Phineas. It's Christmas; relish in the ritual._

_Yeah, open that door and run through it, Phinny-boy. Let' s see how that's gonna turn out?_

_Why do you always have to be such a negative Nancy?_

_Better than being an actual Nancy, wuss._

"Oh my goodness," Phineas muttered to himself, calming his internal argument. This was getting him nowhere; he had to make a decision, or else he would be up all night.

He glanced at her again. Still nothing. He absentmindedly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, steadying himself for the inevitable.

It would be a quick peck, nothing more. She wasn't even going to know. Everything would be great, and peachy, and he certainly wouldn't die of embarrassment, because no one would know.

And he was being redundant. Stupid brain.

_Here goes nothing,_ Phineas thought. He bent his head down quietly as to not wake Isabella. He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering for only a moment before pulling his head back. He paused when Isabella shifted in her sleep, then relaxed when she fell silent once again.

_There. See?_ he asked himself. _Not awkward at all_.

He could feel his face getting hotter by the second. Nope, he certainly wasn't kidding himself. No siree.

Phineas sat back again, his brain in overdrive. He was thinking about this _way_ too much. It was just a kiss. People kiss people under the mistletoe all of the time during the holidays; why should he be any different? Granted, most people didn't kiss another person in the early morning, in a recliner, with their neighbor nuzzled up against-

He never saw it coming.

He could feel a pair of lips on his cheek, warm to the touch.

Phineas froze in place, in part of the contact and in part of his brain suddenly shutting down. His gaze fell upon Isabella, having just pulled back from her kiss. Her smirk was apparent, even in the semi-darkness.

"And you thought I wouldn't notice."

He restarted his brain, trying to properly explain himself. "Isabella.."

Her finger covered his mouth, whatever sentence he was about to say instantly silenced. Eyes still closed, she snuggled closer to him. "Phineas. What did you just tell me earlier? Don't worry about it. Live in the present. It's Christmas; it can wait 'til the morning."

"..." The redhead had no response, still somewhat dumbfounded by her smooch.

Isabella let her hand drop, her arm resting around Phineas' waist. She squeezed it lightly as her head moved a little down the cushion, coming to a stop at top of his chest. "Thank you, Phineas."

"For what, exactly?" he asked.

"For everything. For the pep talk. For your friendship." Her cheeks went pink as she continued on. "And not to mention your kiss. It...kind of made my night."

Phineas chuckled as his hand gripped her shoulder again. "I'm glad I could help." He leaned closer, his courage getting the better of him. Not that he was complaining.

"Merry Christmas, Isabella," he whispered in her ear, with as much warmth as he could muster.

Her response was quiet, yet filled with the same level of affection. "Merry Christmas, Phineas."

And the two of them slept for the rest of the evening...none the wiser of what events would happen later that night.

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> You'll notice that this chapter is humongous compared to the other ones in this story. If Chapters 1 and 3 are the bread, then this one is the meat, mayo, pickles, sausage, _and _provolone. I didn't really plan it to be that long, but when I originally had this story in mind, this was the chapter I knew had to be lengthy.

You know, we get told as fans by fans that Phineas and Isabella are soulmates. That they're perfect for each other. But not a lot of people go into the details as to _why_ they're suppose to be soulmates or lovers or what-have-you. We don't get to see the nuances and private conversations that show what great friends they are. Hopefully, this will enlighten a lot of people on my take on that particular subject.

One very short chapter/epilogue will follow, and then that will be the end of this story. Thank you to everyone for reading and/or reviewing, and I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday.

Read and review, if you like. Until next time.


	3. After the Eve

_**Epilogue - After the Eve**_

Linda sipped her coffee, combing through the holiday photos on her computer. It was a few days after Christmas Eve, and it was customary for her to sort through the myriad of pictures to see if any of them were particularly memorable.

She smiled as the photo Candace took of Phineas and Isabella came up in her viewfinder. She would have never been able to tell that they had been together in the recliner if she had not seen it herself; both kids were already up and about when she had risen. She did see that morning, however, that both of their faces were relatively pink. Perhaps the proximity had embarrassed them somewhat; she didn't know.

She combed through the rest of the stills with increasing interest. Irving trying to add pages to an already bulging scrapbook. Baljeet running away from what appeared to be a lovestruck Ginger. Buford almost barreling through his mother on the skateboard that he got from Santa. She would have to apologize to Biffany later; at the time, it took all of her strength not to die from laughter.

The final photo was one that she had already saved next to the Phineas and Isabella one. It showed a peaceful Candace, sleeping in the arms of her boyfriend late that night, not a care in the world. Her face was a perfect match to the one Isabella had.

"Oh, Candace," Linda said to herself, smile growing wider, "You are _so_ busted."

* * *

><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> And _that_, boys and girls, is the end of **Christmas Comfort**.

I finally got around to finish it. I've been so busy with **An Eve to Believe** that I really kinda forgot about this story. Nothing much, just a little closure on what happened that night.

And no, I don't know who took that picture. I couldn't possibly begin to fathom who it could be. /sarcasm

Read and review, if you like.


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